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“What is it, Mommy?” Erin asked, his voice small but it was high too, excitement at the prospect of being able to open the parcel starting to fill him. He’d been shifting from foot to foot at her side, but now? He was almost hopping up and down with each step the men took, bringing the box deeper into the room.
“I have no idea, sweetheart. Anything could be inside,” she teased softly, though she hadn’t made the purchase herself, she knew from the docket what it was as well as who’d sent it, her fake fiancé that wasn’t so fake. Tapping her chin with the hand clammy little fingers weren’t clinging to, she watched as the men carried on struggling through the small entryway to her living room, and with a relieved huff of breath, placed it square in the center.
“Where you want it?” came the gruff demand.
“Do you mind moving the old TV?” she asked, somewhat mournfully, hoping the older of the pair wouldn’t huff at her too much. The younger one, well, she knew he’d do what she asked—a notion that had her tensing up a little. But the elder? He was far too world-worn to let a pretty face get away with murder.
She was surprised when, moments later, he heaved a sigh, waved the younger guy over, and headed to the smaller unit to shift it away.
“You want it there?” the other guy, one with a glint in his eye, asked her as he checked her out.
“Please. It’s out of the way until I can figure out where else to put it.” She shot him a tight look and curled her spare hand on Erin’s shoulder—taking comfort in his presence.
“Our pleasure,” he replied, his smile far too flirtatious for her liking.
Maybe it was because she’d come to hate when men looked at her that way because it always made Jamie jealous, but she hated being appraised. Loathed it.
Even now, when she was free from her husband’s grasp, accepting a come-on just made her skin prickle. She’d been conditioned, Samantha supposed sadly. Any woman would find it a compliment for an attractive man to smile at her the way the delivery man was. But she didn’t like it. Couldn’t find it in herself to do anything than shoot him wan looks.
She’d noticed him notice her when he’d jumped out of the van, and had felt dread unfurl through her at the sight.
Sighing, because she’d thought she was past this, she stayed close to Erin as they unstripped the new TV from the box.
Though its size was evid
ent from its container, she still blinked at the massive piece of tech. And it was one of those curved ones too, with all the bells and whistles. God, how much had it cost?
“He must have spent a fortune,” she grumbled under her breath, and all because he’d suggested a movie night the other day.
How had that suggestion leapfrogged to this?
Her TV was quite ample, if very small. By comparison to this behemoth, her 20” unit looked like Erin in comparison to Josh.
Amused at the thought, she watched as the guys, who were charged with orders to install the TV too, began to set out everything they needed to get the job done.
“You want it on the wall? Or on that stand?” The one that had supported the old TV.
“Don’t you need a bracket?” she asked.
“One’s included,” the younger deliveryman said huskily.
It was easier to eye the wall than it was to look at him. “Oh, well, sure.” It would probably fit above the fireplace which she didn’t intend on using anyway, and that would put it bang in the center of the main wall.
Pointing out where she’d like it, the men got to work and in no time at all, the TV was on the wall and Erin was gaping at it like he’d never seen anything similar.
Considering they’d had one in their old apartment, she bit back a sigh.
Boys and their toys.
Rubbing her arms when they left, the younger delivery man smiling sultrily at her, she closed the door behind him with relief and pressed her back to it.
As the volume started to soar, she hollered, “Erin? Are you playing with the remote when I told you not to?”
“No, Mommy,” came the instant reply and an immediate lowering of the volume.
Despite herself, she had to grin, and reaching for her phone, she connected to Josh’s.
“Hello?” As his answer was brusque, she assumed he hadn’t looked at his caller ID.
